The Wait Continues...

Super quick blog post just to update everyone!  Dr. Reichman's office called and said that the results from the spinal tap were "out of the normal range."  They didn't offer any more detail than that and said that they want me to talk to my neurologist about it.  They are sending my records to a neurologist they work closely with, Dr. Watkins, who will call and arrange an appointment when he receives my records and referral.  So, as of now, I have to wait for him to receive my referral and records, call me "in the next few days" and set up an appointment, and then wait for the appointment to actually arrive to find out what "out of normal range" actually means!  My family will tell you, I have always LOVED waiting! ;)  Did you detect the sarcasm?

Call me Houdini

My neurosurgeon, Dr. Reichman, called me, after hearing about the change in diagnosis. He is so great, he says he feels responsible for me.  He said, "I own you now because I shaved your head and gave you a big scar."  He intends to stay involved with my case and help me get the best answers and treatment.  He said that it in the 20 years he has worked with these pathologists, he has never had any problems with them and thinks they are so dependable that he wanted to send the biopsy for another opinion at Stanford.  I guess, the more opinions, the better, right?  Except that I don't really want another opinion.  I like the last one, it's my favorite.  I do realize that it is better to have more certainty.  I wouldn't want to have cancer and not be treating it!  So now we're back to waiting for pathology results.  Story of my life.  I'm a little concerned that I may have caused a stir with the pathologists.  If I could talk to them, I would say, please don't be upset about my new diagnosis!  I'm sorry if it made you look like you were wrong or like you made a mistake, but I don't look at this as a medical misdiagnosis, at all!  I look at it as a miraculous healing!  This blog has had almost 40,000 page views!  There are a lot of people offering prayers in my behalf!  For all I know, the prayers could have altered the molecular structure of my biopsy samples!  Have you seen this video about Dr. Emoto's experiments with water crystals?  It's so amazing!  We watched it in our Young Women's lessson on Sunday.  I just love it!

After watching that I thought, maybe I should have had Dr. Reichman take a piece of paper with the word "healed" written on it and just leave it there in my brain.  Maybe I'll try taping it to my forehead instead.  Who knows?  Maybe the next time they do an MRI, there will be a beautiful crystal formation in place of the demyelinating lesion that was there before?

So, I have no idea how long Stanford will take to look at my biopsy sample or when to expect results from that.  I have an appointment at Reichman's office on Tuesday and I will ask then.

Dr. Reichman also said that he had several friends that have MS and that he has some great connections and that he could help me find some good doctors to help me if that is my diagnosis.  He said we needed to set up a lumbar puncture for Monday to test the spinal fluid for markers that would indicate MS or other things.


This whole time, we have just been processing one thing at a time and not looking very much ahead.  I think that has helped us not get too overwhelmed, just taking it one day at a time.  When I heard about the tumor, all I thought was, "I have a tumor." I didn't think too deeply into what that could mean for the future.  I just faced each obstacle one day at a time.  Having to shave my hair was obstacle number one.  That kept me really busy and even distracted me from the serious threat of my upcoming brain surgery.  Luckily, by the time I realized that I should be concerned about my surgery, I didn't have a lot of time to worry about it.  Obstacle number two was the surgery and recovering from it.  Check!  Check!  Back to my analogy of living life like playing dodge ball, I'm still kind of doing that, aren't I?  I didn't even have to shave my head!  Boy, am I glad that all of my friends didn't shave their heads to support me! (several offered)  I would have felt really funny walking around with my hair extensions clipped in and seeing all of you completely bald!  So, I got through surgery with almost all of my hair still intact, came out of surgery with all of my brain functions, and have felt consistently stronger and healthier every day since!  If you are playing dodge ball, you probably want me on your team, I'm just sayin'.  Coming out of successful surgery was so joyful I forgot to wonder what the results would be!  Then!  Even after receiving an incurable, terminal cancer diagnosis, I managed to dodge that as well!  From now on, you can call me Houdini :)

I am continuing in the tradition of enjoying each moment and victory and not worrying too much about what lies ahead.  There are still so many unknowns.  I have been celebrating without even knowing what I actually have to deal with. I may have an uncurable debilitating disease.  I did have another moment of fear the other day when I looked up Lou Gehrig's disease and realized that it is a demyelinating disease that could be considered WORSE than cancer.  Patients have a mean survival of 3-5 years and almost certain paralyzation.  I realize that I am not fully educated in all the conditions that I could have and may be celebrating prematurely, but so far, the one day at a time method is working for me. 

Right now, I'm not praying so much for answers as I am praying for the absence of disease in my body and the ability to heal any if it is there. When doctors have answers, it's because they found something wrong.  I don't want them to find anything...well...besides the happy crystal formation on my next brain scan!

One of the reasons it's hard to imagine having a really serious disease is because I feel so healthy!  I'm not 100% back to myself yet, but I am improving so quickly!  The first time I went grocery shopping, my legs felt weak just from walking around the store.  But then yesterday, I put in a full day's work!  I meal planned, grocery shopped, cleaned, organized and cooked.  It was a fantastic day, the kind of day where you collapse into bed at night with a sore back and feel like you really accomplished something.  Could I really be dying when I feel so well?

Tomorrow marks the four week mark since surgery.  That's how long I was supposed to avoid straining and lifting. I am anxious to scoop up Elyse and hold my little pumpkin princess like I've been tempted to all this time, especially when she's wearing fuzzy jammies.  I just can't resist holding a little kid in fuzzy jammies!  I had planned to resume my workout schedule on Saturday, but since I just had the lumbar puncture on Monday, I might wait until next Monday to jump into that again.  That is not going to be pretty!  I'm sure I will be shocked at how much strength I've lost.  It will take a lot of positive thinking to not let that discourage me.  I worked so hard to get to where I was. As long as I have a lifetime to get it back, I will just be grateful for that.

Speaking of the lumbar puncture, that was on Monday.  I was a little nervous going into it, worried it would be really painful.  One of my epidurals was pretty painful.  The beauty of it was that they did it with live X-ray so they could see exactly where to guide the needle.  Medicine really has come so far, even though it still has so far to go!  I'm grateful for it and how it's helping me.  It actually wasn't that bad!  I mean I wouldn't choose to do it if I didn't have to, but it wasn't as painful as I expected.  After the procedure, they told me to stay down for about 24 hours to avoid spinal fluid leaking and causing a spinal headache.  I've heard about those and they do not sound fun!  My mom stayed over to take care of the kids and get them to school the next day.  Sweet friends from church brought a yummy dinner and I used the downtime to organize my finances.  That has been going undone since we found out about the '"tumor."  Hopefully, Dave Ramsey will understand.  I'm so glad to be back on top of everything again!

I'm expecting to hear the results of the lumbar puncture in the next few days and will repost when I do.  Same with the third opinion from Stanford. Thanks everyone, love you all so much!  Life is great!  Please stop serving me because I am so behind on thanking people! :)

The Miracle

I am in total disbelief right now typing this.  I got a call from Dr. Colman at Huntsman Cancer Institute today saying that they are "pretty sure it's not a tumor."  They were supposed to call on Tuesday and didn't.  They called this morning to tell us that the pathologists wanted to have someone else look at the slides and confirm what they were thinking and that they'd let us know by the end of today.  I was glad they were being so cautious and double checking, but I started to wonder if it had been worth it to do the biopsy at all!  I thought, Wow!  I just risked my life and my brain function to obtain a biopsy sample that may not give us any answers!

I certainly don't feel that way now!  Without the biopsy, the doctors would have recommended radiation to reduce the "tumor."  Dr. Reichman, made the inspired decision to go ahead and do the biopsy, knowing how devastating it would be to treat it if it was not indeed a tumor.  It's mind blowing to think of all the different directions this could have gone and how we have been led to the people we needed to help us on this path.  I'll never forget the moment I was in my hospital room and Joe was taking a shower and suddenly he just started saying, "Oh, I just had the best idea!  I just had the best idea!"  He had just had a thought that he should reach out to a contact he had made through work, Matt Leavitt, who had created a new improved method of collecting biopsy samples.  Joe sent him an email asking for advice at which time Matt urged us to get a second opinion on our biopsy sample and to make sure to get it up to Salt Lake to be seen by the pathologists that specialize in neurology.  That one "thought" that Joe had changed the course of my life!  That was not a thought, people!  That is the power of the Holy Ghost!  The Holy Ghost speaks to us and guides us and gives us the inspiration we need to steer through our lives.  God is there, he is so there!  He cares!  Isn't that the best news ever?

So, what is it then?  If it's not a tumor, what is it?  That's the next step.  Right now, all we've been told is that they think it's a myelinating lesion, a sign of a myelinating disease.  I have no idea what that means.  It could be something like MS.  It could be another kind of auto-immune disease.  That's the next step.  Figuring out what it is and how serious that will be.  I feel like I can overcome anything now!  I am so ready to take on whatever it is.  Bring it on!  I don't want to act like those kinds of diseases aren't serious, because I realize that they are and that they can be debilitating and degenerating.  But going from thinking you're going to die and possibly not raise your children and that you're about to intentionally poison yourself and make yourself sick when you're feeling healthy and whole, to suddenly realizing that you probably have a long life ahead of you that has a lot more hope for health and healing without being subjected to the tortures of cancer treatment, THIS IS GOOD NEWS.

I feel so free knowing that I don't have to go through chemo and radiation.  I cannot describe the horror I have been feeling about intentionally swallowing a pill that I equate to rat poison and allowing it to wreak havoc on my beautiful, healthy cells that I have so carefully been trying to protect and shield from contamination.  I don't clean my house with vinegar because I like the smell.  I don't make my own dish washing powder because it's convenient.  I do it because I care so much about not introducing unhealthy chemicals into my body!  I believe that our mortal bodies are gifts from our Heavenly Father.  I believe that having a body is part of our mortal experience and that we are supposed to learn how to gain control over our physical appetites by strengthening our spirits.  I believe that God expects us to take great care of our physical bodies and respect them as a gift from Him.  I'm certainly not perfect in the way I eat and I haven't found a way to avoid all contaminants, but it is something I give a lot of thought to and my life is quite a bit more complicated than some people's because of the efforts I make in this area.  So, having spent an entire summer with my house completely infested with ear wigs

and not being willing to have someone come spray poison, you can imagine my horror at the thought of agreeing to taking a chemo pill.  Right now, those pills, and all the other pills meant to counteract the negative side effects, are sitting in the pharmacy waiting for pick up!  I felt like I was about to be on one of those videos you see of people from the 50s running through the fields as the crop duster is spraying deadly chemicals overhead.  I considered turning down treatment, but there's just so much pressure!   What do you do when your family thinks you're crazy to not listen to the doctors and your husband is convinced that you're giving up five years of life by not complying with treatment.  But God knew what was coming all along.  I had been pleading with Him to tell me what to do and the only feeling I had was to listen to what the doctor's say.  My plan was to ask the doctors if I could have three months to delay treatment and try my own therapies to see if I could make any progress without the slash, burn, and poison methods.  My family did not feel good about that idea. I didn't even have to have that conversation.

I have to confess that, though many of you have the impression that I have had unwaivering faith through all of this, last night I had a complete break down.  The fear finally started to creep in.  I had been researching alternative methods on my computer for days and I was particularly hopeful and excited about one treatment until I read that it had worked on many cancers but not on brain cancer.  The lack of convincing success stories for treating brain cancer combined with the stories I was reading about cancer treatments actually causing future reocccurence of other cancers in patients had me feeling so hopeless.  For the first time, I started thinking, maybe there isn't a way out of this! Maybe it really is as bad as it seems.  Maybe it is God's plan for this horrible tragedy to happen to our family, because that is a reality of life.  Tragedies really do happen to good people.  I lost hope.  Just like Peter, I looked down at the blackness of the water and felt the winds kicking up and felt sheer terror.  Lord save me! I started to sink.  I was sobbing to Joe.  It was the morning of the surgery all over again.  I felt like such a phony!  I've been telling people how peaceful I feel and how I know I'm going to overcome this and look at me now!  Where is my faith?  I felt a little better when I woke up in the morning.

I spent a large part of today making cancer fighting foods.  I made a coconut smoothie with a real coconut that I really struggled to get into and ended up having to use a hammer and a screw driver to finally gain entrance.  I won't be doing that again, especially after all of the chunks of the actual shell that ended up in the smoothie.  Then, right before picking my kids up from school, I made a cancer fighting salad topped with two crushed cloves of garlic, one of the best cancer fighting foods there is.  It may be days before I stop smelling of garlic.  Joe says this is one of the biggest reasons he's pleased it's not cancer.  While I made the salad, I rocked out to the song "There is a Way" by Newworldson.  I tried to remind myself that He is The Way and that there is nothing he can't overcome.  I also listened to the song "I'm Letting Go" by Francesca Batistelli.  It's about letting go of your own plan for your life and giving it to God to do what He knows is best.  The music had me pumped up and ready to be brave again.  I'm so grateful for people that are given talents like singing and song writing and use their talents to serve God and make a difference in people's lives.

Joe  confessed that he had been reading discouraging things on the internet about my condition and that even though the doctors had given me an average life expectancy of 13 years based on a grade 2 and 2-5 years based on grade 3, he had read that it could really be more like 18 months and was expecting me to be dead in two years.  I'm surprised he had such little faith in me!  I'm stronger than that, Joe!  I was able to feel his disbelief.  I tried to tell him that it wasn't as bad as he was acting, but he wasn't convinced.  He says he was being "realistic." Hopefully, the lesson you'll learn from this is that, I'm always right.

So, here I am, just having had the narrowest scrape of my life.  What a roller coaster the past three weeks have been!  I'm just sitting here wondering. why me?  Why do I get to be the one to walk away from a cancer diagnosis?  It's not fair!  Why do so many wonderful, deserving, faithful people have to go all the way through the hell and I just get to be okay?  I want to acknowledge the unfairness, especially to those of you who may be suffering from this kind of tragedy in your life.  For whatever reason, this is like an Abrahamic trial in my life.  A chance to be tested but then released from the depths of tragedy.  I know that my life will be forever changed from this experience and that there are still a lot of unknowns in my future.  If I could choose any way to find out about having an auto immune disease, this would be the way!  It feels more like a blessing than a curse!

I need you all to know, all of you that have prayed for me, that you have taken part in a miracle.  You have saved my life.  You have given my children the security of being able to believe that their mother will be there for them.  I believe that it was your constant, heart-felt, faithful prayers that changed the biopsy results.  God had a plan all along, but He often pours out blessings only after being asked.  Thank you for asking.  Thank you for caring.  Thank you for your love and support.  I will never forget what you have done for me!  And most of all, Thank you God!  Be there for God and He'll be there for you!  Believe in Him!  He is real!  If you don't believe in Him, look for Him.  Pray to him.  Ask if he is there.  You can know that He is!

Level Headed

So, today I feel like I'm coming down out of the clouds a little more and ready to face what is most likely to come of the "new" diagnosis.

First of all, I'd like to point out that my brilliant neurosurgeon, who was the one actually looking into my brain, with all of his experience, suggested that he thought the tumor was most likely either an ologodendroglioma or an astrocytoma.  It's my understanding that both of those are cancerous brain tumors.  That was before we had any pathology reports back at all.  Then, when we asked if the pathologists were going to send out my sample for more opinions, they said that they weren't because they were really comfortable with the diagnosis.  I think it's fair to say that it's unlikely we will get a totally different diagnosis this time around.  Even though I know stranger things have happened and I have heard awful stories about medical mistakes that have wreaked serious havoc in people's lives.  I'm just trying to protect myself from a huge disappointment by thinking that they're going to tell me I don't really have cancer after all.

Also, during the surgery there was a pathologist standing by testing the samples to make sure they were tumor samples and not brain tissue.  So, doesn't that mean that it IS a tumor?  I don't know enough about this subject to answer these questions, but when I look at the big picture, I just think that I want to keep believing that the first diagnosis is the right one until we have more information.

Not only do I believe that a miracle could happen in my life, I fully EXPECT to see miracles happening in my life.  When they put a question mark over my diagnosis, my first thought was, Is this the miracle I've been watching for?  It still could be, I know that.  But, knowing that having cancer could also turn out to be a life-changing miracle in my life, I just want to be prepared to accept what they tell me and that the prognosis might not improve so I don't have to start all over again on the emotional roller coaster.

I don't like feeling like I'm going to cry every second of the day.  I like to feel like I'm in control of my emotions.  I just want to know what it is so I can deal with it and move on.  I'm hearing a little Backstreet Boys in the background, "Quit playing games with my heart!"  I feel ready to handle whatever it is, but not knowing, is such a pain in the butt!

I'm starting to wonder if we will ever really know for sure!  The more research I do about the subject, the more I find that there are a lot of different things that cause a mass in the brain.  There are stories everywhere about misdiagnosis.  How much do they really know?  We sometimes expect doctors to have everything pinned down so much and know exactly what they are dealing with, but I don't think it's as simple as we think it is.  We are expecting them to do their scientific testing and be able to tell us precisely what is going on, but maybe it's not that straightforward.  Maybe they just have to make the best guess based on all the information?  I guess I need to ask them that.  How sure are you?  Is this an exact science or more of an educated guess? 

I just wanted to get these thoughts out there because I feel like we have caused a big stir by implying that I might not have a scary diagnosis after all.  So I'm just saying let's be cautious and not get too excited just yet.

I'm in the Lord's hands either way and that's a safe enough place for me to be.

 "23 Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God? Know ye not that he hath all power, and at his great command the earth shall be rolled together as a scroll?" Mormon 5:23 (The Book of Mormon)

"C" is for "Confused"

For those of you who are not following my comments on Facebook,  a few days ago we decided to go get a second opinion up at the Huntsman Cancer Institute.  Just to be sure.

 We have been absolutely overwhelmed with the quality of care and attention we have been receiving at IHC, but were encouraged by many - including our doctors to seek a second opinion.

At HCI, we met with Dr Colman, who is the only Neuro Oncologist in the state of Utah. We were impressed when we also discovered he spent 10 years at MD Anderson in Houston - arguably the leading hospital in cancer treatment in the world. Dr Colman was extremely thorough in his questioning and explained to us that something was odd about this tumor. He said it was extremely rare to have the kind of swelling around the tumor, and also told us there were other traits that just didn't seem to tick the boxes of a standard grade tumor. He said it had signs of a grade 1 tumor... and at the same time said it had signs of a grade 4 tumor! Two totally different ends of the spectrum, with dramatically different life expectancy rates. Then he dropped a bombshell and said he was even open to the idea it may not be a tumor at all!

He said he wanted his Neuro Pathologist to go back and take a look at the slides that IHC had used to formulate the original diagnosis. Dr Colman also said they would be reviewing my scans at their tumor conference the following day. He told us in all likelihood, he would probably end up giving a similar diagnosis... grade 2, 3 or 4 tumor, all of which would have the same treatment applied, so we left with instructions to go ahead and get everything set up to start chemotherapy and radiation on Monday.

This was Wednesday.

Thursday, we visited the radiation oncologist's office to get a mask created for my face, which will protect me from the radiation. That was a fun experience. Oh ya... I also got the staples removed from my head. We then visited the oncologist, Dr. Rich, who prescribed the chemotherapy pills and all the other medications I am to take to handle the side effects.

 As we were leaving Dr. Rich's office, walking us out of the consultation, he got a text from Dr. Colman. Are you keeping up with all the Dr's names?

He looked at us and said "We need to put everything on hold... They cannot confirm this is a tumor!"

Say whaaaatt?

Dr. Coleman called us later to tell us that neither the radiologist who reviewed my scan, nor the pathologist who reviewed my biopsy slides can conclude with certainty that it is a grade 2 astrocytoma. Actually, they can't even currently confirm that it is a tumor at all!

The possibility of MS was brought up.  I don't even know if that would be an improvement from my current diagnosis or more devastating!  I feel like an MS diagnosis would be a little more hopeful than a terminal illness.

Alright, everyone pray that I have MS!!

He said they are going back to the drawing board and staining and analyzing the biopsy from scratch, using their own methods, rather than relying on the slides sent by IHC.

We are supposed to hear from him by Friday to find out if they have gotten any more information.  I don't have a good feeling about having enough tissue.  I feel like we're going to run out.  I'm so grateful that my doctor took the biopsy samples carefully and didn't get too aggressive, leaving me unable to function.  I feel very confident that he got the best sample that he could get safely. I'm visualizing the Bible stories of the woman that fed the prophet Elijah her last meal and then received the blessing of her cruse of oil never running out and her meal lasting indefinitely and also when Christ fed the five thousand with five loaves of bread and two fish.

I need that kind of miracle right now!

The best case scenario that I've heard from the doctors has been that the brain mass could be related to a one time virus!  That would be so incredible!  But my friend Tres had the best idea yet... she thinks it could be a stored ball of love up there in my brain, just hanging around for when I need extra.

I'm going to run that by my doctors and see what they say!

I'm getting a little too excited and I recognize that I'm setting myself up for disappointment. They could so easily come back and give me the same diagnosis all over again.  OR it could get worse!  It is such a wonderful, relaxing thought to think that things could get a little less scary, especially if anything changed that made chemo and radiation unnecessary.  But, I am prepared to take on this challenge either way.  If going through cancer is what my family needs to learn and grow, I am willing to do it.  Every trial in this life is worth going through if it points us on the path back to eternal life with Heavenly Father.

 Even with all this confusion and uncertainty, I'm still on a high from the success of the surgery, feeling so relieved that it went well and in disbelief with how quickly I'm recovering from it.  I'm feeling so blessed that way and just hoping these blessings will keep coming.  Being able to function and be there for my kids is so satisfying.  I know my kids would be a lot more distressed right now if I had been in bed this whole time.  They would feel like they were already losing me.  It's been huge to be able to get them ready for school and do homework with them. I am so grateful for my current health and energy.

My speech is improving as well!  If I try really hard I can kind of carry a tune! I just got to do a semi normal mom thing, though not totally unassisted.  Melanie remembered that Mia's half birthday was coming up.  Thanks for stepping in for my brain on that one, Mel!  The kids that have summer birthdays get to celebrate their half birthdays at school and bring treats for their class.  My awesome sister Maren made s'more squares ( our kids official birthday treat every year) for the kids in Mia's class and gave them to me last night so I could send them with Mia this morning.  But I forgot!  So I hopped in my car and drove my little old self to Walmart to get cellophane gift bags to individually wrap each treat.  Then I delivered them to her class!

It felt so good to do something normal like that, all by myself!

The treats Maren made for Mia's class

Now, I know what you moms are thinking.  If I were the one reading this I would have been feeling guilty for not appreciating those kinds of moments and be scolding myself for having even complained about these kinds of responsibilities that add so much busyness to my already overwhelming life!  No need for guilt.  Being a mom is overwhelming!  We are expected to do so much!  This is a lesson for me to be happy with what sometimes feels like a mundane life.  Going back to that monotony sounds really good right now.  Put the world back on my shoulders!  I feel like doing some squats!  Having everyone stepping in to do everything for me has me feeling lazy and helpless.  It's not their fault!  I just love the feeling of knowing I'm working hard and accomplishing things.  But, of course, I am so grateful to all these lovely people bringing me their healthiest most delicious meals.  Every act of service rendered is coming right from the bottom of your hearts, I can feel that!

Check out this spreadsheet planned and printed out by my tan sisters who teamed up with my super loving and helpful Relief Society president Kara Edwards.   The Relief Society is the oldest and largest women's organization in the world. Relief Society was established in 1842 for women 18 years of age and older. It's purpose is to build faith and personal righteousness, strengthen families and homes, and help those in need.  Most Mormon women probably take Relief Society for granted, but I am being made so aware just how necessary and helpful it can be!  I love you, ward sisters! This spreadsheet has it all layed out of who is bringing our family dinner every night for the entire months of January and February!

Are you jealous of me yet?

And everyone is taking a day to give me a ride to my radiation appointments if needed.  My white sisters are taking care of the kid's rides home from school, and helping out with cleaning, laundry, and homework.  My mom has been preparing my kids lunches for me so I can just grab sandwiches from the freezer and throw them in their lunch bags.

My team is leaving no stone unturned.  Go team!

A big thank you to everyone who keeps sending gifts, flowers, and cards.  My relationships will just never be the same again.  I cannot imagine ever again wondering if I am likeable or loveable after this outpouring of love from everyone! I know who my true friends are for sure!

For the first time ever, I am having someone come to my house to help me clean.  My sweet cousin, Clarisssa, who cleans houses for a living, is coming today.  I cannot tell you how awkward it feels to me to have someone else clean my house!  Someone that did not contribute in any way to making the mess!  How can I tell her to clean stuff?!  That's so weird to me!  I would so much rather just make my kids do it all.  I have no problem bossing them around.  If only school wasn't their full time job.

Speaking of school, everyone there has been so great!  All the teachers and administration have extended their love and support to our family and have asked the teachers to be lenient and understanding of our situation.  The best part of all is that Joseph's science teacher has approved him to do his science project in a team with his cousin Christian!  This means that Melanie will be supervising the whole science project and I don't even have to worry about it at all!  Now, I know I said I wanted to get back to my normal life, but few things stress me out like science projects.  I'm still a little traumatized from the procrastination I did as a child and still harbor negative feelings because of it.  Luckily, Melanie is right on top of it with the boys.

Here's something I wrote yesterday about the upcoming treatments before the backtracking on the diagnosis:

Now on to my second source of confusion, how to go about treating and healing this.  This is the most confusing thing of all!  We have worked so hard to surround ourselves with the best, most experienced doctors.  And I am so pleased with them so far!  But so many people and so many things I read tell me to ignore what my doctors are telling me to do and self treat with alternative therapies.  I have been planning since day one to utilize alternative treatments, but I never intended to disregard my doctor's advice altogether.  I believe that there are natural remedies on this earth that are being ignored by the medical community that could really help people if doctors would just pay attention.  But, at the same time, I believe that God inspires scientists and doctors with the medical knowledge and advances that we have now.  I believe both things are from God.

My plan was always to utilize both.  The worst thing I heard at my appointment yesterday was that my doctor doesn't think it's a good idea to use any supplements, oils or herbs during treatment because while the radiation and chemo are hard at work trying to stop the cancer cells from growing, supplements and herbs could be regenerating those cells and counteracting the beneficial effects of my treatment!  I wanted so badly to utilize all therapies and I was convinced that I was going to blow everyone away with my fast recovery and miraculous healing, but without my secret weapons, how can I cope with the treatments I'm about to undergo?  If I'm going to go through the treatment process, I need it to do its job.  It's too much suffering to go through to waste it.  But, the thought of poisoning my body and not doing anything to counteract the damage to my health is more than I can bear!

I want to speed the healing process as much as I can and use remedies to minimize the symptoms associated with chemo and radiation.  So, I'm left with one option, diet.  The doctors say I can do any kind of diet I want, so that's the only tool I feel like I'm left with.  Of course, I'm not even making my own meals right now  and based on what I'm told about the effects of treatment, it's not looking good for becoming a full time dietician.  They say that about three weeks into treatment I will start to have extreme exhaustion.  They say some people continue working full time and some people can barely make it to their radiation appointments and back.  There's no way to know where I'll fall on that scale.  Do I dare give up all of my meal help and thrust myself full force into a nutritional war on my cancer?  Will I have the energy to keep it up if I do?  I believe that God will inspire me with the answers I need, but so far, I'm just plain confused and don't know what to do.

Pray that I will have the inspiration I need to make these most important decisions.  Thank you for your prayers!  And to those of you that keep saying you wish you were close by so you could do more, there is nothing more valuable than your prayers!  Prayer is so effective, it is my greatest tool right now!  It provides answers, blessings, miracles, and comfort.  Lots of comfort!  It's surprising how manageable something like this becomes with God supporting you.

"The C Word"

I have to apologize for taking so long to write another post.  I know many of you are very concerned and look for updates of how we're doing.  It's just that between visitors at the hospital, and writing blog posts, and going to doctor's appointments, and trying to move back home, and being there for the kids, there has been a lot going on!

I'm trying to get back to some normalcy for the kids sake, but I'm still tired and weak, and I crave a nap at least once a day. The good news is I am writing this from the comfort of my bed.

Yes... I'm finally home :)

It's hard to know what to focus on here.  I need to work on getting my speech and vocal chords working again, and I want to improve the movement in the left side of my face. I want to increase my strength and stamina as fast as possible, and get back to my old workout routines.

I also feel the need to do research and look into alternative treatment options, but I really need to get my house organized so it will run more smoothly.  My kids are old enough to fill in for me, but I have to have everything in it's place if I want to be able to direct and orchestrate everything from my bed.

I've decided that I'm going to need to establish a whistle signal for each child.  I am trying to avoid having to shout, so as not to put any stress or strain on my healing brain, but my kids are always so far across the house that I can't get their attention when I need their help.

I think I'll make them start calling me "Captain" as well. 

So now for the major news. On monday, we had a visit from our new oncologist, Dr. Rich. His visit was not the happiest we've had.  He told us the biopsy results came back early.

It's cancer.

A malignant tumor - stage 2.  I wish I had known this in advance, but apparently stage 4 is the worst,  stage 1 is only seen in children.  It didn't feel like it at the time, but stage 2 is considered a very favorable diagnosis in the cancer world.

All we heard was "cancer" and "not curable."

We were shaken up... big time.  Before the doctor had even finished delivering the survival statistics for someone with a "stage 2 astrocytoma," the door flew open and in ran the kids.

Joe and I hadn't had time to share our reactions with each other or decide what to tell the kids, so Joe took my sister Maren and my Mom into the hallway and gave them a quick briefing, while I tried to act normal in front of the kids.  I could tell Joe was feeling hit really hard.  He had a look of disbelief and a little anger on his face, shaking his head side to side.

I felt the same way I felt when I first found out about the tumor.  Not fully comprehending the weight, but believing that somehow it would all be okay. I wanted to reassure and comfort Joe.  We finished up our visit with the kids, who have grown increasingly loving and cuddly with each visit.

We had just received a delivery from one of Joe's clients "Younique."  They had sent each of our kids a ridiculously soft stuffed dog with a sweet tag on its neck, with a personally written message to each child about hugging the dog when they missed their mommy.  It was the perfect gift at the perfect moment! See the picture at the top of this post.  There were other treasures in the bag as well.  Thanks Lindsay & crew!  Everyone has been so generous and are just showering us with affection, full-time!  We may have a few more surgeries in our future when we have to get these stuffed animals removed from our children's clutches.  They can't be seen without them!  The kids are receiving gifts at school, and one of the owner's of DoTerra, who lives in my sister's neighborhood, delivered a box containing 24 bottle of essential oils, including NINE bottles of Frankincense!  Talk about generosity!  We are overwhelmed!

Once the children left the hospital, Joe texted his family and asked if they could come to the hospital to hear the biopsy results.  I can't believe how fast they all showed up!  I want everyone to know that I understand that you all still have busy lives and jobs and children with schedules. You have communicated to me that  I am an important priority in your lives and I feel supported, but I don't expect you to be able to drop everything and show up at a moment's notice.  We all need to keep our worlds spinning somehow.  Please know that I understand that.

So that was Monday...

Tuesday morning, we met with one more new doctor, our radiology oncologist Dr. Clarke. This was the final step before we could finally check out of the hospital.  Unfortunately, the news got a little worse again when he said that there was a possibility that the tumor could be stage 3 instead of 2.

After we saw him, we packed up to go back and stay at my mom's.  On the way out, we stopped by my Dad's hospital room - just around the corner where he was recovering from back surgery performed by our "family surgeon."  I'll have to talk to Dr. Reichman about getting a family discount. 

We may need to use it when we have the stuffed dogs removed.

 

Tuesday night I attempted to tackle the kids homework routine.  I was thrilled to be awake and feeling well enough to even consider doing this and, for the first time, felt like homework could allow for some good bonding time instead of just being a time-sucking nightmare.  I'm going to have to learn to enjoy the aspects of motherhood that can be done in the reclining position.  But, for now, any mothering is enjoyable and I consider it a blessing.

Wednesday morning, there was more bad news.

We had another appointment with the oncologist who told us that they had held a doctors conference that morning where multiple doctors reviewed my case and were now leaning toward a stage 3 tumor instead of a 2.  They want to send the tissue samples to the Huntsman Cancer Center for some more advanced tests to try to get a more definitive answer.  I need everyone to pray that the tests will show favorable results, and that we won't run out of tissue before they make the necessary discoveries, as each test uses up more of the biopsy sample.

Regardless of the outcome of these tests, my treatment will begin in just over a week.

Radiation and Chemotherapy.

Walking back through the waiting room of the Cancer Center, Joe and I were arm in arm. I turned to him and declared "Let's just stop coming to these appointments... the prognosis just gets worse and worse."  We looked at each other and busted up laughing, which probably looked weird, considering where we were.

It has been difficult transitioning into looking ahead at the future of cancer treatment, and all that entails.  I'm still on cloud nine from how well the surgery went!  I just want to continue feeling this gratitude and trust in my heart and avoid starting down another path of fear and worry.

That brings me to an email I got from my sister, Maren.  She included a section of  a talk given by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland in 1997 entitled, "Come Unto Me."  This talk is so deep and profound and so perfectly encapsulates all of my feelings that I want to share part of it on here.  Warning: read slowly and allow for moments of pondering.  It starts off talking about the miracle of Jesus feeding the five thousand:

"After Jesus had fed the multitude, he sent them away and put his disciples into a fishing boat to cross over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. He then “went up into a mountain apart to pray” (Matthew 14:23).

We aren’t told all of the circumstances of the disciples as they set out in their boat, but it was toward evening, and certainly it was a night of storm. The winds must have been ferocious from the start. Because of the winds, these men probably never even raised the sails but labored only with the oars—and labor it would have been. We know this because by the time of “the fourth watch of the night” (Matthew 14:25)—that is somewhere between three and six in the morning—they had gone only a few miles. By then the ship was caught up in a truly violent storm, a storm like those that can still sweep down on the Sea of Galilee to this day.
But, as always, Christ was watching over them. He always does, remember? Seeing their difficulty, the Savior simply took the most direct approach to their boat, striding out across the waves to help them, walking on the water as surely as he had walked upon the land. In their moment of great extremity, the disciples looked and saw in the darkness this wonder in a fluttering robe coming toward them on the ridges of the sea. They cried out in terror at the sight, thinking that it was a phantom upon the waves. Then, through the storm and darkness—when the ocean seems so great and little boats seem so small—there came the ultimate and reassuring voice of peace from their Master. “It is I,” he said, “be not afraid” (verse 27).
This scriptural account reminds us that the first step in coming to Christ—or his coming to us—may fill us with something very much like sheer terror. It shouldn’t, but it sometimes does. One of the grand ironies of the gospel is that the very source of help and safety being offered us is the thing from which we may, in our mortal shortsightedness, flee. For whatever the reason, I have seen investigators run from baptism, I have seen elders run from a mission call, I have seen sweethearts run from marriage, and I have seen young couples run from the fear of families and the future. Too often too many of us run from the very things that will bless us and save us and soothe us. Too often we see gospel commitments and commandments as something to be feared and forsaken.
Let me quote the marvelous James E. Talmage on this matter:
Into every adult human life come experiences like unto the battling of the storm-tossed voyagers with contrary winds and threatening seas; ofttimes the night of struggle and danger is far advanced before succor appears; and then, too frequently the saving aid is mistaken for a greater terror. [But,] as came unto [these disciples] in the midst of the turbulent waters, so comes to all who toil in faith, the voice of the Deliverer—“It is I; be not afraid.” [Jesus the Christ, 3d ed. (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1916), p. 337]
Brother Talmage used there the word succor. Do you know its meaning? It is used often in the scriptures to describe Christ’s care for and attention to us. It means literally “to run to.” What a magnificent way to describe the Savior’s urgent effort in our behalf. Even as he calls us to come to him and follow him, he is unfailingly running to help us.
Finally recognizing the Master that night, Peter exclaimed, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.”
And Christ’s answer to him was as it always is, to all of us: “Come,” he said.
Instantly, as was his nature, Peter sprang over the vessel’s side and into the troubled waves. While his eyes were fixed upon the Lord the wind could toss his hair and the spray could drench his robes, but all was well—he was coming to Christ. Only when his faith and his focus wavered, only when he removed his glance from the Master to see the furious waves and the black gulf beneath him, only then did he begin to sink. In fear he cried out, “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:28–30).
In some disappointment the “Master of ocean and earth and skies” (see “Master, the Tempest Is Raging,” Hymns, 1985, no. 105) stretched out his hand and grasped the drowning disciple with the gentle rebuke “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” (Matthew 14:31). (See also Frederic W. Farrar, The Life of Christ [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1994], pp. 310–13.)
Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. This is his true and living Church. He wishes us to come unto him, to follow him, to be comforted by him. Then he wishes us to give comfort to others. However halting our steps are toward him—though they shouldn’t be halting at all—his steps are never halting toward us. May we have enough faith to accept the goodness of God and the mercy of his Only Begotten Son. May we come unto him and his gospel and be healed. And may we do more to heal others in the process. When the storms of life make this difficult, may we still follow his bidding to “come,” keeping our eye fixed on him forever and single to his glory. In doing so we too will walk triumphantly over the swelling waves of life’s difficulties and remain unterrified amid any rising winds of despair."

Concerned friends and family members want to know how I'm coping with this.  This is exactly how I feel.  I feel like He is in this trial.  I am not going to run away from it, or be afraid of it.  I am going to embrace it and glean all of the learning and love and comfort out of it that I can.  I do feel sad and concerned for my family, especially my children, but, luckily, when God does His work, it works out good for everybody!

I trust Him so much, that I just believe that either I will be miraculously healed or, if my family does lose me, they would be supported so much that they would still be able to have lives of peace and happiness.  That's all that really matters.  Those are both happy endings to me.

Earthly life has never been certain or safe.  Our only hope for being an eternal family is to stay faithful all the way to the end of our lives. That is what I ask from my children.  A commitment to cling to your testimony like your life depends on it, because it does.  If each of us do our part, nothing can separate us!

Joe and I were married in the temple, and therefore sealed together with our children in God's eyes for eternity!  There is no greater blessing and nothing is more worth our time and efforts in this life!

Telling the Kids...

Wednesday after school, we knew we needed to update the kids on the situation before we put out any more blog posts.  We brought them into our bedroom, and told them we needed to talk about something serious.  Joseph said, "Does that mean bad?"  To which Mia replied, "Yes, that's bad."  We told them about the cancer and the upcoming treatments that would cause me to be sick in bed a lot of time.  Mia started crying.  She exclaimed, "We're never going to have a normal life again?!"  I tried to reassure her that we would and now that is going to be my focus.    Making sure I spend quality time with each of them and that we figure out how to run our household so that it feels like it used to feel are two things that are constantly in my thoughts.  We will need everyone's help for quite some time, but the sooner we can get back to being an independent family, the better everyone will feel.

Joseph exclaimed, "You mean we're never going to get to go roller skating again?!"  Mia shouted, "Is that all you're worried about?!"  I think Joseph was envisioning me being sick and in the hospital for the rest of our lives and never getting to do any fun family activities together ever again.

I can't wait to post a video of us going roller skating.  Give me about four weeks.

And a helmet!

To Mia, the biggest blow is feeling like we won't be spending time together anymore.  She is one who really craves late night talks and heart to heart sharing and girls nights.  I feel so determined to continue to fill these needs for my children, there is just nothing that will stop me.

Elyse just clutched her pink dog and cried.  Poor, angel baby!

We've all heard horror stories about the suffering of chemo and radiation patients.  Pray that I will be emotionally and physically strong enough to endure the suffering necessary to keep me here with my children as long as possible.  I haven't experienced the treatments yet, but from my current perspective, I intend to do everything in my power to be here for my children as long as humanly possible even if it means great suffering and pain.  Children don't stop needing their parents even when they grow up.  What would I be doing right now without my parents and my husband's parents?  I have every intention of being ninety years old and still coming to the rescue for my children when they need me.  That is my calling in life and I have no intention of being released from that calling.

I can't believe that I'm not going to find some way out of this.

Being at my mom's was an improvement from the hospital, but there's nothing as familiar and comfortable as home.  So, on Wednesday evening, we decided to pack up our kids stuff and see if we could make it work at home.  We had a fun and delicious lunch with Maren since her birthday, the day before, had been totally ruined by my constant demand for drama.  Here's a clip of when I got my party favors after the party:

It feels good to be home, but I am noticeably weaker, for sure. The meals we've been receiving have been a life saver!  It took me ages to get the kids unpacked last night.  I knew that I wouldn't be able to get them off to school on time without having some sense of order in the house.  Trying to clean up feels pretty tedious.  I feel like I'm moving at about one mile per hour. I'm used to racing around the house ,whipping it into shape at high speed.  I may be the tortoise in "The Tortoise and the Hare" but we all know who comes out on top in that story! I feel like things will only improve as I continue to recover and we get a more established routine of how to make everything work.

There's no way to foresee how the treatments will go.  We have an appointment to meet with Dr. Coleman at the Huntsman Cancer Center in Salt Lake next Tuesday morning.  Hopefully we will also get the results from further biopsy testing they are doing as well. We should be able to get a better idea of the treatment plan then.  For now, it's looking like radiation for six weeks paired simultaneously with chemo.  I don't know how bad that will be.  I don't see any point in worrying about it now.  I know God will help me get through it and I know my friends and family will be there to offer all the support I need when that comes.

I got the kids ready for school this morning all by myself!  I feel so proud!  My sleep schedule is pretty messed up right now, so waking up wasn't too bad.  That's usually the hardest part for me.  We tried to have as many things done the night before as possible.  The kids were helpful and the food Grandma had sent home with us was just right.  I'm usually trying to get them to eat things I consider healthy, while my mom just gives them what they actually like.  They cooperate so much better that way. I was thankful for white bread this morning.  Joe drove the kids to school.  I came along for the ride just to be part of it.

As soon as we got home, Joe handed me my laptop with a look like, "Get back to work."  I know I need to be more consistent with my posts, but I hope you'll all understand that sometimes that isn't the priority.  I may just make some shorter Facebook status updates to fill in the gaps.

Then, Joe and I got into a not so pleasant conversation.  He feels like he needs to hope for the best, but plan for the worst.  He wants to be able to have some difficult conversations but it's hard because he's trying to be sensitive to my feelings.  I'm a little more in la la land, thinking it's all going to turn out great somehow.  It's pretty emotional to have to keep talking about such serious stuff all the time. 

Prayers still needed and much appreciated!  Love you!

Guardian Angel

I know that all along the way, I have been mentioning the gentle and patient way in which Joe, my guardian angel,  has cared for me, but I felt like I wanted to dedicate a whole post to it since it has meant so much to me and provided me with more comfort than anything else.  It's just so amazing, some of the things he does for me now and has to help me with, I would have thought would be awful!  Like helping me walk safely to the toilet.  I was dreading needing any help with that kind of stuff, but we have grown so much closer together now that he is overseeing my every need.  He wants to make sure that I'm always safe and comfortable.  That is his new number one concern.

I told him this morning that I felt like he was having a chance to have a similar experience to becoming a mother.  The overwhelming feeling of love and responsibility we mothers feel.  I think sometimes Dads miss out a little on this part of parenthood because whatever they don't do, their wives will step up and make sure it gets taken care of.  There's just something about having someone be so totally dependent on you, that brings out feelings of love and unselfishness for that person.  Joe and I always joke about my first week of motherhood.  After Mia was born, I literally did not sleep for 4 solid days!  But, when asked at church about how the new baby was sleeping, Joe replied, "She sleeps great!"  I just looked at him in total shock that he could be so oblivious to the countless hours I had spent awake and nursing a crying infant.  I can feel that Joe is feeling some of that weight, importance, and duty in his responsibility to care for me.  That is a good thing for everyone, I think.  A chance to experience love in a deeper way.  Sacrifice breeds love.  That is why no one can love us quite as much as Jesus Christ.  Because He made the ultimate sacrifice.  The love between mothers and their children comes from the depth of the sacrifices they are asked to make for them.  It all starts off with sacrificing our very health and bodies to bring them into the world.  Then it turns into an incredible demand on our time and a sacrifice of sleep, time, and selfishness.  The more we give up, the more we gain.

Don't think that I'm not a believer in mothers having time for themselves because I absolutely am.  It's just a matter of priorities being in order and having your heart in the right place.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that Joe is a great mother!

Happily, my own mother is also being a great substitute mom for my children.  She can do that because Joe is being here for me.  If he wasn't, my mom would step in in a heartbeat and make sure everything was being taken care of for me and she would be less able to see to the needs of our children.  There is no one that is a more beautiful example of unselfish service and sacrifice than my mother.  Many of you must have similar feelings about the sacrifices your mothers have made for you!  I don't understand the direction the world is going in an attack on motherhood.  Why do women feel they have to be like men to be considered valuable?  I'm pretty darn proud of the way we women naturally nurture and love and I have no desire to change that beautiful tradition.

I don't want to diminish the work that fathers do because how could I have had the kind of relationship I have had with my children without a father to financially support my hobby of toddler worshipping?  I have always been so blessed to be married to a man who values the work I do as a mother and supports me in my desire to make this my number one priority in life.

But, enough about mothers, Joe has the nail varnish!  When I first met Joe at BYU, he and his roommate were hanging out at our apartment and we were all having a conversation around the kitchen table.  Everyone was talking over each other, until Joe grabbed a bottle of nail polish sitting on the center of the table and declared in his adorable English accent, "I have the nail varnish!'  Like, as if, that was the official symbol of having everyone's attention.  That joke has never died and I can still be heard declaring from time to time, "I have the nail varnish!'


The first thing that impressed me about Joe, besides his accent, of course, was his sense of humor.

I love to joke around and laugh a lot and I have always been able to do that with him.  We have a good supply of inside jokes and that is a source of connection and fun between us.

The second thing that impressed me was his dedication to living the gospel.   Joe is not necessarily a rule follower in life, but he is when it comes to the gospel.  I love and admire his high moral standards.  I have always been somewhat of a rule follower.  I like to be obedient.  I have never liked to risk getting in trouble.  I enjoy being a good student.  During this experience, I have relied on Joe more than I actually needed to because I ask him for everything when I could really be relying more on my nurses.  But I have enjoyed being told I am an easy patient.  It is not in my nature to be a nuisance to others.  That comes from my mom, she always makes sure she's not being a burden on anyone else.  That is deeply engrained in me. So, if Joe can always be the one to fetch me my chapstick and my phone charger and find my tooth brush, then I don't have to feel awkward burdening a nurse I don't know very well, and I get to retain my desired title of "easy patient."

I am grateful to him for allowing me to have the help I need in a way that is the most comfortable to me.  If all of you sweet people offering to help me all the time were the ones helping me to the toilet I can guarantee this trial would feel a lot more upsetting to me than it does now.  Sometimes, in trying to help people, we forget to help them in the way that is most helpful and comfortable to them.  I am not at all inferring that anyone has done this to me!  I have had nothing but the kindest, most unselfish treatment from every single person I have encountered from day one of this crazy situation.  I feel as though I have a thousand new friends!

Let me just quickly address my new friends, I have had several messages where people have apologized for reading my blog because we don't know each other well.  I want to make it clear that sharing my feelings and beliefs has been a focus of this blog from the start, and I do not feel the slightest bit violated having strangers reading it.  The very best messages I have received have been about people that have decided to pray for me and in so doing, are rekindling their relationship with God.  I can't think of any more important work than reconnecting God with his beloved children.

This experience, more than any other I've had, has helped me to feel God's love for me and how much He really, truly is there for all of us.  My greatest desire is for that message to reach all the world.

A special thank you to Joe, my guardian angel, stepping in to serve me the way the Savior would if He were here.  Your presence improves each moment of the day by filling it with fun, familiarity, and a deeper level of companionship than we have previously enjoyed.

I look forward to a long, loving relationship with you that our children will look to in the pitiful first years of their marriages and long to mirror.  You'll get there, kids.  But love takes time and sacrifice and life experiences.

Let's all embrace our life experiences instead of trying to run from them.  They are there for a reason!  All my love to everyone!

I can't finish without mentioning my sister-in -law, Meg who came in today and painted my nails for me and scraped sticky surgical preparation goo from my remaining hair and walked me around the hospital halls.  She served me in such a gentle, Christlike way, I had to mention her as well.  My in-laws have been so amazing I can't bear to call them "in-laws" anymore!  I'm promoting them to blood from now on.  Maybe I can differentiate by saying my tan sisters and my white sisters :)  What do you think Mel and Maren, does that suit you?  They are all beautiful!  I know there are so many of you desiring to share your love with our family in this way, too, and trust me, we are feeling it!

Full to Bursting

I borrowed this title from my Aunty Pam's Facebook comment.  It so fully describes how I'm feeling right now.  I am literally bursting at the seams with love and gratitude to God and all of my supportive friends and family.  I slept well last night.  Even got to snuggle in bed with Joe for a little while.  Until I woke up at 4am with the strangest dream.  I couldn't shake myself out of it and kept thinking, "Great, I've got a brain injury and now I'm a paranoid schizophrenic.  My nurse had just come in and turned the lights on to check my vitals.  We neuro patients have to have our eyes checked.  So the nurse shined a flash light into my eyes to check my pupils. This felt extremely shocking in the middle of the night, a lot like what we see on TV during alien abductions.  Well, that started off a crazy dream about the nurses conspiring against the patients to enslave us in a scarf-making concentration camp.  They were doing social experiments on us to see if we would conform.  I kept thinking to myself, I am not a conformer! I've got to get out of this!  I hesitated, not wanting to ring my nurse and admit that I thought she was trying to kill me, so I woke Joe up instead... at 4 am, knowing he would help bring me back to reality.  In my mind, the socks on my calves that continuously squeeze my legs to prevent blood from clotting, became scarves being twisted around my legs. I remember asking Joe, "Do you feel something pulling on your legs?"  He groggily said, "No."  I forced him to wake up all the way so her could snap me out of it. That helped a lot.  He is always there for me, every second!  From adjusting my socks to showering me and washing my HAIR! to supporting my weight while I stand at the sink and brush my teeth, he ensures my comfort from moment to moment.  

What a blessing this has been for our marriage!

I would like to point out that it's no lie when they tell us at church that Heavenly Father really does have our best interest at heart.  That is so tangible and real to me right now.  He is giving me exactly what I need, at every moment.  

It's funny to me to be getting encouraging words from people like Sara Staker and Mercedi and Robbie Hale, who are the people who inspired this blog by blogging their own personal tragedies and miracles for me to read. I remember so clearly crying with them and pleading with God to bless them in their sorrows. I felt such a personal connection with them through their posts, and always knew if something similar ever happened to me and I needed others to care and pray for me, blogging was the way to go.

Another gospel truth that is sinking deep into my heart right now is that He "supports us in our trials and troubles."  I can just imagine being an outsider, reading my own blog, and thinking I would never be able to endure this.  It seems so scary and unmanageable.  But I've learned that we can get through anything with God by our side.  His help is for real!  Each and every one of you could endure exactly what I'm enduring if you just turn to Him. 

I have no doubt in my mind about that.  

I am going to stop laying low in life and stop being afraid of God's plan for me after this.  I know I can fully trust him to be there for me.  I feel so much closer to Him now.

So, after my schizo dream, I was totally alert and awake and all I could think about was wanting to go to church FOR THE ENTIRE DAY.  I can't think of a way to express my gratitude fully.  I was ready right then, at 4 am to start putting my makeup on and heading down to that glorious chapel on the main floor of the hospital.  But it didn't start until 10:30.  

I was able to fall back to sleep with Joe laying by my side.  I woke up rested and ready to prepare for my long awaited sacrament meeting.  I would have given anything to be able to show up in my own ward today.  I would have had so much fun making every one gasp with surprise!  I could have done it you know. Shocking people has always been something I enjoy.

How do I describe church today?  I can’t. It was one of the most emotional experiences of my life.

Joe and I got to the chapel early, and sat down together in a pew. Nobody else was in the room. After a few moments, a sweet old lady entered, greeted us and began playing the organ prelude music. I opened a hymn book and began reading the words of some of my favorite hymns. Something about the combination of the peaceful silence of the room and the soft organ music, being played just a few steps from where the operation had taken place filled my soul with overwhelming gratitude for my heavenly guardians who had been watching over me during my surgery. Tears started rolling down my cheeks and I began to sob. I could feel Joe next to me doing the same.

A man approached Joe and asked if he could help pass the sacrament to the congregation. (Sacrament is when members of the congregation eat bread and drink water as a symbol of accepting the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and a commitment to live for him.) 

Joe had been planning on going home to attend our local church service with our kids, but we found out last night that there was a chapel in the hospital, so he decided to stay and go to that with me instead. The only problem... he had no church clothes with him. 

So there we were... me sitting in my hospital gown, and him in his PJ bottoms, T-shirt and sneakers (trainers to you english folk). Not your typical church attire, but we knew the Lord didn’t care. We were there. 

I could tell Joe was embarrassed and tried to explain his predicament to the man, who smiled and led him over to the sacrament table.

The church service began. Why oh why? did they have to open by singing, "Because I have been given much?”  

The whole meeting was unbearable, trying to stay composed.  As the sacrament hymn started, I could see Joe sitting by the sacrament table with tears flowing down his face.  He stood as the blessing on the sacrament was about to begin. Usually this is a very reverent time when everyone is quiet, but all I could hear were sounds coming from Joe, who was now sobbing, shaking uncontrollably as he stood at the sacrament table.

Today was testimony meeting, I knew I had zero chance of getting any words out, but Joe was brave and got up to bear his testimony.  He gave a brief background of finding out about the brain tumor, going through surgery and starting recovery.  He explained that he wasn't emotional because of sadness but because of gratitude.  I can't believe how well he made it through.  Lots of kind people stopped to talk to us after.  We tried to tell them how grateful we were for the opportunity to attend church with them, but there's no way for them to possibly know how meaningful it was for us.

Hopefully, you saw that funny video Joe posted yesterday of me having a laughing attack.

We had another really funny experience yesterday.  My scalp seems to be loosening up a little enough for me to laugh easier.  My devoted sisters, Melanie and Maren had come to visit me in my new hospital room.  I'm out of the ICU now!  My IV pump alarm started going off and Maren got up and pushed a button to silence it.  Joe joked that she had just pushed the "inject poison" button.  The same alarm kept going off, so I finally rang the nurse to tell her.  I pushed the red button on my remote and someone else joked that I had just pushed the "self-destruct" button.  I said, "I just poisoned myself again."  At that very moment, the nurse came on and said, "What?"  Everyone in the room erupted into laughter and no one had enough composure to be able to explain what we really needed. We were laughing too hard to speak!  She must have thought we were pranking her. Melanie then went to the nurse's station to explain the whole situation and apologize. Always the diplomat.

They say laughter is the best medicine.

I ended the day with visits from my brothers and sisters in-law, who came bearing gifts - even though that night was supposed to be Kit's birthday celebration. They have been such an incredible support though all of this.

As far as how I'm doing right now, I can no longer sing.  Even my speaking is less animated.  I have a lot of trouble raising the pitch of my voice up and down.  Speaking is difficult.  I stumble a lot on my words.  The strength on the left side of my face is already improving.  I don't have any doubt that I will make a full recovery and regain all my brain functions 100%.

I am very much living in the moment right now and loving the healing, progress and success I am experiencing.  I haven't thought too much about the road ahead, though I know it will most likely be a long one.

I got to see my incision today.  That's one scary looking incision.  I would scare anyone without covering it up. Too bad Halloween's already over.  

I'm glad I came prepared with a good supply of scarves and hats, even though they contributed to my nightmares!

Thanks for following and sharing everyone!  And for your love and support!  Wow!  You are all blowing me away, and bringing me to tears every day!  Don't know how I'll ever repay you!  

You are teaching me what true friends are!